


Who We Are

by paintedsunflowers



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Angst, Blackmail, Bottom Luke, Depression, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Manipulation, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Top Ashton, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 15:41:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2393885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintedsunflowers/pseuds/paintedsunflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They told him to stay away. Luke Hemmings was cold hearted, sharp-tongued, and rumor had it he spent a lot of time on his knees after school. But Ashton Irwin never was one to do as he was told.</p><p>And maybe, just maybe, Ashton can break down his walls and save him before it is too late.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There weren't many things that surprised the students of Westminster Boarding School anymore. There were just certain expectations you learned to accept when you grew up in the same school for the past ten years. For instance, you learned that being even a millisecond late to Chemistry class would result in immediate detention, no exceptions. Or that during the pop dorm checks, RA, Edwards checked the individual beds in case a student tried to sneak out and cover pillows with their comforters. Or that the best place to hang out after curfew without getting caught was the old art building. Or that trying to outsmart Liam Payne in any subject was a lost cause.

And probably the biggest and most important rule was: stay out Luke Hemmings’ way. The Hemmings were known for three things: their money, their influence, and their aristocratic, superior demeanor. And Luke had most certainly inherited the worst of everything his name had to offer.

He was loaded, spoiled, and according to any student, was the biggest arse to have ever stepped across into the school. He had attained his mother's beauty: lightly tanned, unblemished skin, very thin and lithely built, golden tufts of hair that were stuck in a permanent quiff, and the brightest, cruelest ice-blue eyes.

He was cold, cruel, and didn't need anyone or anything. He had no friends, and he didn't want any. His father arranged for him to have an entire dorm room, with two beds, a bathroom and living room, to himself. He had a new, silver Benz that he hardly drove because the only place he ever went was to the Hemmings Estate, and whenever he did, he would never waste energy on driving himself.

Instead, Mr. Hemmings would pick his prodigal son up and so the Benz sat in the parking lot, lonely, much like the owner of the car did so, much to the chagrin of the students.

All of these unspoken rules became a sort of taboo for the students. You learned them, lived by them, and your time at Hogwarts would pass smoothly and quickly and you would be on your way. So the day before the new term started, when Headmaster Higgens made his way to the end of the West Wing Boys' Dorm to Hemming’s personal suite, nearly every single student on the hall peered out of their rooms to see what was going on.

For several few moments, it was eerily quiet. Then suddenly…

"I'M GETTING A WHAT?" A piercing shout came from the end room, causing everybody who was intently listening in to jump.

"You heard me, Mr. Hemmings. And refrain yourself from shouting,” Higgens said sternly.

The seething blonde complied, but the snarl in his voice was enough to make most shiver. When Luke Hemmings was unhappy, nobody was safe. "This is completely uncalled for. There are plenty of other dorm rooms. My father won't allow this!"

"I am sorry, Mr. Hemmings, but there are no more available rooms for seventh years," Higgens explained calmly.

"Then stick him in with the bloody first years!" Luke protested.

"Your roommate will be moving in shortly this evening," He continued as if he hadn't heard him, turning to leave. "I trust you will help him to feel welcome-"

"Of course, I'll be sure to cater to his every dying will," Luke stated sarcastically. The students waited with bated breath, all picturing the trademark eye-roll of the crude teenager. Luke Hemmings was the only person who ever talked back to Headmaster Higgens.

Higgens paused on his way out. "You shall treat him with the utmost dignity, Mr. Hemmings. Even you are not above expulsion for ill content towards students. That is final."

He turned on his heel, eyes narrowing at all the gathered students. "I believe you all have something better to do then stand there and dawdle," He growled, springing everyone back into action. Some returned to their rooms, thankful to have faced the Headmaster's wrath above Hemmings’. Others pretended they were visiting their neighbors as he stalked off.

If looks could kill, Hemmings would have had a hallway of deaths on his hand as he glared at the few who gathered the courage to look his way. He sneered and thrust a hand into his pocket, retrieving a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. 

"What the hell are you looking at?" He growled as he stormed down the hall, leaving a very interested crowd in his wake.

"Did you hear that?"

"Hemming's getting a roommate!"

"He didn't sound too happy about it."

"I wonder who this new kid is?"

"God help him, whoever he is."

…

Ashton Irwin sighed as he stared out the window, watching his breath collect on the pane. He felt a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder and he turned to the driver's seat where his mother was looking at him worriedly.

"I know you're nervous about this," Anne started.

Ashton shook his head dismissively. "I'm okay, really. Just tired." He lied.

The truth was he wasn't nervous about attending a new school at all. He was ready for a change. Well, maybe he was a tad bit nervous. Westminster Academy was one of the most prestigious boarding schools in the country. And one of the most expensive.

But he was prepared. He was walking through the gated entrance with a purpose. He had taken all the tests, he had studied in school. Hard and vigilant. Because he had to get away from his old town. 

He had grown up under his mother’s roof, his father conveniently absent from most of his and his younger sisters’ lives. He became a sort of father figure to them, despite how young he was.

It was hard, having the responsibility of a man on the shoulders of a young teen. And Ashton despised his dad for leaving the way he did.

A scholarship was his blessing into the academy. He wasn’t poor per say, but he definitely did not have enough money to make it past one semester. Which is why he stuck to the books through countless sleepless nights. It was all going to be worth it in the end.

He was ready for a change. Ready for a new start.

 

"Well, we're almost there, Ash," Anne said, ruffling his already unruly blonde curls.

His life really had done a complete 180. He was happy for once in his life. He just hoped at this new school, it would stay that way.

"What about that Hemmings kid?" Ashton asked. When he had spoken with the Headmaster, he had told him he was rooming with a seventh year like himself named Luke Hemmings.

Anne grimaced. "The Hemmings are all the same, Ash," she had warned. "They're ignorant of everyone but themselves. They're manipulative and you shouldn't trust them. That includes Luke Hemmings. If he is his father’s son, he will be nothing but trouble."

Ashton sighed. When his mother had learned that he was rooming with Luke Hemmings, she had immediately called up the school and argued with Higgens about the arrangement. Ashton had no idea why his mother didn’t like them, but he had heard the name brought up before and it was never for a good reason.

And whenever he asked his mother about it, Anne would sidestep the question and start talking about something else. Nevertheless, Ashton was already weary of his roommate-to-be.

When they finally pulled up to the towering school, Ashton sighed in relief. He felt like he had been sitting in the car forever. They pulled up to the outside of the West Wing, which was where the seventh year boys' dorms were located. Anne put his car in park and they both got out.

Ashton retrieved a large duffel bag from the trunk, a worn black backpack and a single cardboard box that held what few belongings other than clothes and school supplies he owned.

"Do you need help bringing everything in?" Anne asked, closing the trunk after her son. Ashton shook his head.

"I'll be alright, mum," he promised.

Anne took a deep breath and Ashton could see the beginnings of tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “You’ve made me so proud.”

Ashton felt his cheeks redden at his mother’s compliment. “Don’t cry mum,” He smiled, dimples forming. 

“Sorry,” She chuckled, fanning her eyes. “Alright, don’t forget to study hard and don’t forget to skype your sister and brother.” She pulled him into a tight hug.

“I won’t,” Ashton said, motioning across his chest. “Cross my heart.”

“I love you.”

Ashton heaved the bag over his shoulder and watched as his mother drove away, waving from the rearview mirror. He took a deep breath and started towards his new home.

As he reached the front entrance, the door suddenly swung open, knocking him off balance and causing the contents of his box to scatter along the concrete.

"Hey!"

"Sorry! I didn't see you," The person apologized, immediately dropping to the ground and helping Ashton grab his things.

Ashton shrugged. "It's alright." As an Asian boy stood up, holding a frame and a few books, he finally took notice of whom he had crashed into.

“That obvious, huh?” Ashton ran his hands nervously through his hair.

“When you’ve been here for as long as we all have, then yeah,” The boy handed Ashton his fallen belongings.

“I’m Calum.”

“Ashton, nice to meet you.” Ashton.

“Ahh, so you’re the new roommate then!” Ashton just nodded as Calum started waving him forward. “You can just follow me.”

Calum had a mess of black hair and dark features, Ashton caught sight of a few scattered tattoos on the teen’s dark skin as he ushered him in.

“There’s four of us to a dorm,” He started explaining, walking down random hallways. “I room with Michael. You’ll meet him in a sec. And we live on one side. And you’ll be living with Satan’s spawn.” Calum said, a glint in his eyes as he stopped at a door. 

He pulled out a card from his wallet and flashed it across a sensor on the door, unlocking it.

“You mean Luke?”

“So you’ve already been warned then?” Calum grinned. They stepped into a room furnished with a small kitchen, dining area and living room.

A pale boy with a shock of red dyed hair was sitting on the armrest of the couch, video game controller in hand. He was deeply invested into some video game that gunshots and explosions were coming from.

“Mikey, say hi to Ashton.”

The redhead looked up momentarily from his game and grinned. “Sup?” He turned back to pause the game before tossing the controller on the couch. 

Ashton stared at him. Michael was extremely pale and also had a few tattoos across his forearms. A shiny piercing glinted behind his bangs, nestled into his dark eyebrows. “They allow that here?” He asked. 

“Oh this?” Michael pointed to the spikes of red and the eyebrow piercing. “They’re not really supposed to but it’s not like they can say anything. Especially cause fucking Hemmings gets away with it. So I guess technically we should thank him for that.”

"This is kind of like our living room. But we all have our own bedrooms on either side,” Calum interrupted. He said, pointing to where the main room led to a small passageway. "Our bedrooms are right next to them."

"I'm assuming I'm over there, then?" Ashton asked, motioning towards the opposite side where there appeared to be only one more room.

Michael nodded grimly. "Yeah. Unfortunately you got the short end of the stick."

"What do you mean?" Ashton asked, finally putting down his duffel bag and box on the countertop. He rolled his shoulders.

"Basically, you have to room with the most insufferable brat that has ever walked the earth," he finished.

"Luke."

Michael gave a questioning look at Calum, who was leaning across the counter.

Calum just shrugged. “He already knew before he got here.”

“So you know how much of a bitch he is?”

Ashton laughed uneasily. “Uh, I know that his family is like super rich and they kind of do whatever they want because they can?”

Calum snorted. "That's a nice way of putting it."

“Let’s get him in before Hemmings comes back and locks you out,” Michael grabbed one of Ashton’s boxes and hauled it across the room. Ashton nodded and the three walked across the room to the unopened door. "The Hemmings are a bunch of no-good, dirty, conniving bastards. Especially the one you're living with. I think someone up above may have had a death wish for you." Michael said.

Ashton stayed silent as he took in those words. As they stepped in, the first thing that came to his attention was the color of the room. The walls were painted a dark blue and half of the room was completely furnished.

There were two beds that sat across from each other. One was immaculately made with a black comforter, and the other was untouched. In fact, most of the room was utterly, one hundred percent clean and orderly and in some shade, blue or black. Compulsively so. Both a desk and two dressers, one Ashton presumed was probably his, were set separate from his bed and desk. Almost as if his roommate had taken what he pleased in the room and pushed everything he wanted as far back into the corner as he could.

He set his bag and box down on the bed and looked around, noticing that he wasn't the only one looking around as if he had seen the room for the first time.

"Never been in here?" He joked.

Calum shook his head in awe. "Never took him to be OCD."

"Should have guessed it though," Michael scoffed, picking at the boy’s immaculate sheets. “Knew he was a nutcase.”

"Ashton, please tell me you're a disgusting slob," Calum said mirthlessly, his eyes flashing ruefully as he jumped onto the untouched mattress. Michael quickly followed suit, satisfied with checking out Luke’s bed.

Ashton laughed, rolling his eyes and deciding to go ahead and unpack his clothes. "I'm alright," He admitted, taking out small piles of folded shirts and jeans. He walked over to one of the drawers and opened it. To his surprise, what should have been his dresser was already taken up by what he could only presume were Luke’s clothes.

The second and third drawer preceded in the same fashion. He looked up in exasperation.

"What's wrong?"

"It's completely full."

"Every drawer?"

"Every single inch possible," Ashton commented as Michael bounced off the bed and took a look for himself.

"The arse is more poncy than I thought!" He grinned. Ashton rolled his eyes and went across the room to the other set of drawers and looked in them just to be safe.

He stalked sullenly back to his bed where he began to put his clothes back into his bag.

"What are you doing?" Calum asked, eyebrows raised as he watched his new roommate.

"What does it look like?"

"Yeah, but-" He sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. "Ashton, this is your room too now, you know.”

“And you need a place to put your stuff,” Michael tagged along, once again interested in Luke’s belongings as he shifted through the drawers.

Ashton’s eyes narrowed. "I think you guys want me to get on his bad side.”

 

"Everyone's on his bad side, Ash," Calum pointed out. Michael nodded from the other side of the room. "You’ll see."

Ashton still didn't look convinced.

“I don’t see how someone could be that bad…”

"Look, Hemmings is used to walking all over people. Like father like son. And if you don't put your foot down, he's going to do the same thing to you. It's bad enough you have to share a room with him." Michael said seriously.

Ashton sighed as his new roommates continued ranting, but he did in some way agree. Everything he had heard thus far was just more reasons to be apprehensive about his new roommate. But it didn't mean he wanted to start off the wrong way before he even properly met the kid.

Nevertheless, he handed Michael a stack of jeans at the redhead's insistence and watched as he shoved Hemming's clothes into the two bottom drawers.

"So Ashton," Calum started, taking his focus off Michael gleefully mutilating the once pristine organization of Hemming's belongings, "Do you know what classes you're taking?"

 

Ashton shrugged, deciding he might as well start to unpack everything else. "Kinda. I know they made me a schedule. I have to get it tomorrow morning after breakfast. I expect you know where the main office is?"

"Yeah. Mikey and I can show you before your classes. It's not too hard to get around once you know where you're going."

"There!" Michael exclaimed happily, shutting the rest of the opened drawers. "I cannot wait to see Hemming's face."

"Other than the fact that my new roommate is a downright bastard, what else should I be worried about?" Ashton wanted to make sure he was fully prepared to take on his new roommate.

"Nothing much. He mostly keeps to himself," The black haired boy said, genuinely surprising Ashton. This Hemmings character was already an enigma. He had most everyone Ashton had encountered hating his guts and yet he kept to himself?

"Bullshit. Yeah, when he's not throwing out insults like Cowell gives detention," Michael countered bitterly. 

Calum shook his head. “He’s all talk.”

"Talk isn't the only thing Hemmings does with his mouth." Michael said in a sing-song voice. Ashton took careful note of the implications of what was just said.

“He what?”

“He’s gay,” Michael said slowly, eyes narrowing as he looked at the curly haired teen. “I hope that’s not a problem. Cause…” he motioned at him and Calum.

“Wha-no, no!” Ashton put his hands up in defense. “I don’t have a problem with it. I was just saying…well, cause you said Luke, er Hemmings…his mouth…” Ashton clapped his hand over his mouth to stop his blabbering.

Michael was still glaring at him and Calum was looking at him weirdly.

Ashton took a deep breath. “I mean, I’m that too.” The glare on Michael’s face went away. “I’m gay,” he added softly.

“Yes!” Michael patted him on the back. “No sweat, dude. That’s great.” He started chatting suddenly about how long he and Calum had been friends and Ashton finally let himself breathe properly. 

They weren’t mad. This school was definitely a new, bright start.

"Well I think I've had enough of being in Luke's room," Calum finally said, breaking through Michael’s explanation of how they got together.

"Don't want to be here when the brat gets back," Michael agreed.

Ashton groaned. “You two are ridiculous.”

"You’ll learn the hard way. Everyone does." 

They exited the bedroom and congregated around the living room. Michael picked up his abandoned controller and restarted the game.

"So where are you from?" Calum started, wisely going off the topic of Hemmings. There was no need to warn Ashton further. Michael was right, he would learn eventually.

"Hornsby," He replied. "Lived with my mum and brother and sister," He mused.

"Why'd you leave?"

 

"I just…I needed a new start." He tried to explain without having to go into detail. It wasn't like most of his childhood was terrible, but some parts of it, he just wished to finally move on from.

"What about your dad?" Despite being engaged in his game again, Michael was still listening.

Ashton’s expression hardened. “I don’t really like to talk about it.” He said darkly.

An awkward silence suddenly settled over the room and Michael looked up from his game.

"I'm sorry."

Ashton shook his head quickly. "It's no big deal. He just wasn’t there for most of my life.”

"So you moved from Hornsby all the way out here?" Calum pressed on.

"Mmm.”

The three elapsed into more conversation as the night grew longer. Ashton learned that Michael was an only child and video games were basically his best friends through primary school. He also learned that Calum was not Asian. Not one bit.

"Well isn't this nice," A voice drawled impatiently, causing everyone in the room to look up.

A thin blonde stalked moodily into the room.

He was extremely lanky, Ashton noticed first. Long legs and a thin torso. The second thing he noticed was the shock of golden-blonde hair that was styled in some sort of faux hawk. The third that he noticed were the piercing cold, yet most stunning blue eyes that narrowed as they met directly with his own.

"What is this? A house-warming party from the welcoming committee?" He scoffed. Ashton was taken aback at the amount of venom that laced his words.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop as glares were sent in both directions.

"Clever, Hemmings." Michael hissed, turning his attention completely away from his game without bothering to pause it that time. "But seeing as you weren't invited, bugger off."

Luke didn't seem in the slightest bit concerned. "Like I would want to attend anything put together by your filthy hands," he shrugged, looking disinterestedly at his fingernails.

"Fuck off," He growled warningly. Ashton watched as the blonde left the wall scowling and stood in the small hallway for a moment.

"Is that the best you can come up with Clifford? Never mind. Shouldn't have expected anything remotely intelligent coming from you." With that, he turned on his heel and walked into his bedroom. Their bedroom, Ashton winced.

Michael seethed and Ashton could see his knuckles turning white has he clenched his fists.

He looked at him worriedly then stood up. "I'm going to go talk to him." He decided. Michael's anger fell away to astonishment.

"That's suicide Ashton," he warned.

"I have to face it sometimes, and I would prefer to do it now before I'm locked out of my room." He tried to ignore the pairs of eyes looking at him like he was walking the plank. He took a deep breath and made his way to where the blond had disappeared.

He stood in the doorway for a moment, only slightly surprised that it remained opened. Hemmings had his back turned towards him and was, to Ashton's horror, angrily going through his clothes and throwing them onto the floor below.

"Hey!"

Without even glancing backwards, the blond growled, "I'm terribly sorry. I suppose you don't like it when people go through your stuff either."

Ashton stormed into the room, his anger starting to rise. What was with this guy? He reached down and snatched his clothes from the floor.

"I have to put my stuff somewhere."

"Preferably back where you came from."

Ashton pinched the bridge of his nose, willing himself to calm down. "Look, I'll find a solution. But for now, you're going to have to share."

Luke finally looked up and met his eyes. His glare was cold and made Ashton shiver slightly, but he didn't relent. He held the stare.

Luke rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He turned and started rummaging through a black backpack, pulling out what looked to be a small green pack. Ashton sighed, trying to let his anger dissipate. 

"This was not a good way to start off," He groaned. "We're going to be living with each other whether we like it or not, so let's just start over, okay?" The blonde ignored him. "I'm Ashton Irwin." He reached out his hand next to Hemming's shoulder and saw the boy tense.

His arm was beginning to ache as a slow, agonizing minute went by. When Luke turned, Ashton was expecting a little less mirth in the glare, but instead, he was faced with a dirty sneer and a pair of relentless narrowed eyes. There was anger and coldness, but Harry also saw how they stormed over as if he was confused or hurt.

It was startling. He swatted Ashton's hand away angrily. "I don't give a damn who you are."

The curly haired teen was taken aback by the maliciousness. He dropped his hand and instead folded his arms, chest beating wildly.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" His patience was ebbing away. "I'm just trying to be polite here!"

 

"Listen close, Ashton," Luke spat. "Everything you've probably already heard from your so-called friends is probably true." He stepped forward and Ashton found himself preparing to defend himself. But the blonde didn't move again.

"I am not friendly. I am not polite," He mocked the teen's words. "I don't have friends and I don't want any. Least of all you," He checked Ashton up and down as he said so, which would have made him self-conscious if it weren't for the fact that he was spitting mad himself.

"So do us all a favor and leave me the fuck alone." He finished and didn't even give Ashton time to retort before he was cursing to himself and leaving the room.

"Hold up, where are you going?" He demanded.

"None of your business." He called behind him, making a show of slamming the door shut in his wake.

He heard a low whistle in the common room and as the anger abated, he walked back into the common room and slumped into the couch next to Calum.

"Can't say I didn't warn you."

 

He sent a half-hearted glare at the redhead who had the decency to look regretful.

"At least you can say you tried," Calum reassured him.

"I wouldn't waste your breath on him. That's how he acts with everyone. The only time he isn't shooting insults is when he's sucking the professors’ off." Michael growled.

Ashton ran his fingers over his temples. He could already feel a headache coming. But he caught on to Michaels' words again. That was the second reference that had been made insinuating that Luke was…well, doing what exactly, he wasn't sure.

But if all the other accusations had so far held true, which they did, he wondered just how far off this was to the real truth.

…

Luke Hemmings shuddered in the cold. It wasn't necessarily cold, but a light rain that seemed to damper his already bad mood made him cold and being on the rooftop of the dorm building with no proper jacket didn't really help.

 

His hands were shaking as he pulled the green pack apart and retrieved another cigarette. His nerves were shot. Had been since that bastard Higgens told him he was to share a room.

He did not need a roommate. And he did not need friends, as he so kindly told that Ashton kid. And really, what kind of person just took it upon themselves to empty out someone else's drawers. Selfish prat.

He shook his head and concentrated on lighting his cigarette, shielding the butt from the drizzle.

It was a particularly nasty habit. He knew it was. But he couldn't help but find consolation in it whenever he was on edge, which tended to be more often than not.

He exhaled the smoke deeply, closing his eyes and holding his breath for several moments before he released it into the air in a small cloud. Instantly, his nerves settled somewhat.

But he couldn't help but feel like things had truly gone to shit this year. Sure, they had been bad before, but more than ever, Luke found himself becoming more ostracized and lonely than he had ever been.

And it was his own fault. His own damn fault.

Trust.

That word again. He bit his lip bitterly as he looked out across the forest behind the dorm. He didn't trust anyone. Hell, he didn't trust his own parents. Everyone that he had ever come close to, had hurt him in some way or another.

But he was a Hemmings. And he had expectations to uphold. Like being cruel, superior, and independent. Uncaring, resentful, prideful, arrogant. He was not to mingle with other students, not that he particularly cared to, but that was all in the upbringing too.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the shingles. He stared at his left hand and twirled the cigarette lightly between his fingers, pointedly ignoring the scars along the inside of his wrist.

This was the only ounce of control he had over his life anymore. This was his lifeline. Pathetic really.

Speaking of pathetic, Ashton's lame attempt to do what no other could do. How more brainless could you get?

Then again, he was sure this kid had probably heard all the horrible things about him. And yet, he still offered his hand in friendship.

He scowled. He could have taken it. Could have chanced letting someone in for once. But his pride wouldn't let him. He didn't care. Really, he didn't.

He was lonely. But that didn't matter. All he needed was his pack and his lighter, and maybe a razor blade or too, something he had been telling himself for the past two years. He was fine on his own. Better off that way.

The rain started to fall faster and he finally ground out his smoke against the damp shingles. He wasn't quite sure how long he had been out here, nor how much of his pack was now gone.

But the chill began to settle in his bones, and he was going to have to go back anyways. Better to get it over with now than later.

He rubbed his eyes in exhaustion as he returned back to the room. The lights were all off except for a small glow underneath his door. Great. He thought. That meant his new “roommate” was still up.

He opened the door and walked in, seeing that Irwin had turned on his table lamp. Without permission. He bit back an angry retort. He was too tired to fight more tonight.

That was becoming a more regular occurrence. Having no strength to fight anymore.

Ashton looked up from a book he was reading in his lap.

"Come back, have you?"

He was promptly ignored as Luke pulled off his light sweater and grabbed some towels from the bathroom, shutting the door with more force than necessary. He turned on the shower, making sure the water was hot.

Hot enough to burn. He winced as he stepped in, feeling the water scald his skin. He sighed in relief. He considered this part three of how to calm his nerves.

Before he could get used to the temperature, he took a bar of soap and began scrubbing viciously at his body. He didn't stop until the skin was nearly raw, and only then did he put the soap down and proceed with his hair.

Step one was calming the nervous and sick fluttering of his body. The second step was getting rid of the dirt. Because he was filthy. As dirty as they come. Because Clifford had part of his gossip right. And there was nothing he could do to stop the rumors…or what was really happening.

He realized too late that he was digging his nails into his scalp and he slowly withdrew his hands. No blood. What a shame. But he was sure there were crescent sized welts beneath his hair.

As he finished his shower and stepped out of the water, he looked into the mirror. He was thin. Almost painfully, although nowhere near emaciation. But this year was already taking a toll on him. He had lost weight.

And he knew that because he wasn't eating properly. Nor was he sleeping well. This year had really gone to shit. And it was only a month in.

He sighed and dressed for bed and combed his hair before he shut the light off and made his way to his bed. Ashton had lain down, it seemed, but failed to turn the lamp off. Idiot. He turned it off and managed to catch a small glimpse of the boy.

His eyes were closed, curls hanging over his forehead and mouth slightly open.

Good. Maybe he decided to stop waiting on him to finish his shower.

"Hey?”

"Or not," he muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing. What do you want Irwin?" He grimaced at how rude his words were coming out, but he couldn't help it. He slid beneath the covers and glared over at Ashton's bed.

There was silence for a moment. Then…

"Night Luke."

He froze at the words. No one ever called him by his first name. It was…unnerving. And at the same time made his heart skip. Irwin was still trying to be friendly?

He had guts for sure. But no brains. He threw a deadly glare across the room, quite aware that his new roommate wouldn't be able to see it.

Stupid Ashton. He didn't need a friend. He didn't need anyone.

"Fuck off." Was the last thing he remembered saying before he turned to face the wall and quietly contemplated how his life had gotten so out of control.

He fingered his lighter in his hand and felt his skin start to itch. He sighed. It was going to be another sleepless night.


	2. Chapter 2

Ashton groaned as the blaring sound of his alarm invaded his senses. He groggily turned over in bed, arm flailing wildly in search of his phone. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he checked the time.

8 a.m. The first day of classes.

To say his first week previous to the start of school had been both interesting and frustrating was an understatement.

Calum and Michael had helped him pick up his course schedule, collect his i.d. card, and had given him the grand tour of Westminster complete with commentary courtesy of Michael.

“That’s the A.R. Music Theory Hall. Again…” he had sighed, “another one of Hemming’s wonderful contributions to the school.”

Apparently Luke Hemming’s father had his fair share of his name around the entire campus. Which had still surprised Ashton although he had known all along the weight of the Hemmings donations.

“At least they got something right with this one,” Calum pointed out.

Michael just shrugged. “The only thing Hemmings is good for…other than, you know.”

Ashton sighed internally.

Word had spread like wild fire that he was the infamous new roommate of Luke and all he had heard were nonstop apologies of what was to come and insinuations of Luke’s not-so-private life. It was unsettling to say the least.

Ashton finally sat up and discarded his covers, swiping the screen to hush the alarm. He glanced over the other side of the room, where, unsurprisingly, Luke was absent, as was any sign of his existence.

The bed was made pristinely and the only other signs that he even had another roommate, the ever-present cigarette pack, was missing.

Of course, he found out there was at least a reason for his being gone in the morning. Surprisingly, both Luke and Calum played for the school’s refined soccer team.

It was odd to think that Hemmings might actually be some sort of a team player. And, Ashton noted, Calum never spoke badly about the blonde when it came to playing. Nor did he say anything particularly good, but in Luke’s case, Ashton assumed nothing was better than something.

But while Calum still showed up between the three-a-day training sessions and always came home, actively hanging out with him and Michael, Luke made himself near invisible.

Whatever he was doing in his spare time was lost to Ashton. The blonde was both gone early in the mornings and came back long after Ashton couldn’t stay awake. A few times, he had caught the sound of the shower running as early as 2:45 a.m. but he was never able to keep his eyes open for longer than a few moments before succumbing to sleep again.

A quick series of vibrations from his hand shook him from his musings.

From: Cal

Please for the love of God make sure Mikey gets his ass up! We’re done with training. Meet you at the caf in 10.

Ashton rolled his eyes, his lips pulling into a smile. Calum had already warned him about Michael’s uncanny ability to be late to class. He texted back a reply, ensuring the redhead would be there.

Needless to say, it was much more difficult to get Michael out of bed than he imagined. He wound up resorting to a threat that if the redhead didn’t get out of bed this instant, he would find himself washing bleach out of his precious hair for the next two weeks.

Only then did Michael begrudgingly get up with a half-hearted, “Fuck you too.”

They spotted Calum at one of the long tables situated at the heart of the cafeteria, hair still plastered to his forehead from his post-training shower. He waved them over eagerly to join him and some of his teammates.

Ashton recognized most of them, like Louis, Liam, and Niall, since Calum and Michael had made it their personal duties to introduce him to everyone they knew.

There was still one face missing from the team. Ashton scoured the cafeteria, glancing for the shock of blonde quiffed hair.

When he finally did find said hair, Ashton felt his smile fade. Luke was sitting at one of the tables at the very end of the cafeteria, head down and hand making circles around his plate with his fork, like he was playing with his food.

Even being a part of a team didn’t seem to keep him from his reclusive state.

The blonde seemed to realize that he had an audience of one because he looked up until he met Ashton’s gaze, shooting him an icy glare before shoving his tray away and stalking out of the cafeteria.

That was odd.

“What’re you staring at?” Michael questioned in the process of swallowing a cinnamon roll whole.

“Nothing,” Ashton muttered, ducking his head. Bringing up Luke would only bring up animosity. And to be fair, he was getting kind of tired of it. Luke may have been short- tempered with him, but he had done nothing so terrible to make Ashton dislike him.

Calum shot him an odd look, following his previous stare to the now empty table. He just shrugged his shoulders at Ashton as if to say ‘he always sits alone’.

Thankfully, Ashton was saved from having to explain himself by Liam asking if everyone was coming to watch their preseason scrimmage that afternoon.

His first two classes were calculus and world civilizations, which he thankfully shared with not only Calum and Michael, but also a majority of the soccer team. Apart from two chapters worth of homework and a pretest that seemed to fluster all of them, the start of classes was actually looking very positive for Ashton.

He met with his roommates in the courtyard for lunch, a large patio-like area lined by several small cafes.

It wasn’t until his fourth period that he had by himself that Ashton’s day started to turn slightly sour. Despite being shown around campus, he was still struggling to find his way across campus to get to class on time.

He stumbled into English a few minutes late. He smiled sheepishly at his professor, cheeks reddening in embarrassment. She waved him on towards the already filled class where there was only one open seat.

In the last row. In front of none other than Luke Hemmings.

Ashton took a deep breath, steadying himself. This was going to be interesting.

He slid into the vacant seat, offering a small smile to the blonde. Luke just glared at him, lips settled in a deep frown.

Ashton sighed, turning around in his seat. Professor Pembroke started out by introducing herself and passed out a syllabus to each student.

“We will be starting this semester with a project,” She began, ignoring the audible groans that sounded.

“You will be working in partners of your choosing. And you must do a literary analysis of one of the excerpts from the list of authors in your syllabus.”

As she continued explaining, Ashton felt an idea coming to mind. A partner’s project? It was perfect. Maybe he could finally figure out what made the blonde tick. Why he was so cold and rude? The rumors couldn’t all be true.

“Once you choose a partner, you will email the discussion topic of your choice. It is a first come first served basis.”

Ashton turned around slightly in his seat, eyeing Luke.

“Want to be partners?”

Luke fixed him with a bored stare.

“I don’t do partners.”

Ashton rolled his eyes. “Clearly neither does this entire class. But you gotta do what you gotta do right?”

He was trying to stay positive but the blonde’s attitude wasn’t helping much.

“Whatever,” he scoffed, chewing absently on his nail.

“So is that a yes?” Ashton prodded him. The boy promptly ignored him, choosing instead to look outside the window.

Slightly exasperated, Ashton glanced back at their teacher to make sure he wasn’t drawing attention to himself before he turned more fully in his chair.

“Look, I’m trying to make this easier on both of us and I would really appreciate it if-“

“What makes you think I even want to be partners with you?” Luke hissed, his voice turning icy so fast it made Ashton’s head spin.

“Yeah cause everyone else is just jumping from their seats to be partners, let alone friends with you!” He bit out before he could stop himself.

There was just something about Hemmings that seriously tested his patience. He turned around and frustratingly folded his arms to his chest. Asshole, he thought bitterly. The least he could do was be polite.

Unfortunately, polite and Luke Hemmings didn’t seem to fit in the same sentence. Whatever. It wasn’t like Luke had a choice. After all he heard, he was almost positive he was the only person willing to still try and be friendly to the boy.

 The blonde merely glared at him before turning his attention away to the window.

“Good, so let me know what you want to do. If not, I’ll choose.” Ashton said without room to argue.

Forcing himself to forget about Luke for the time being, he returned his attention back to the front of the class, dully listening to the remainder of the syllabus.

Halfway through, Professor Pembroke received a call from the desk phone. She held her hand up to signal to the class to hold a moment. “Mr. Hemmings?”

She motioned towards the back of the class. The rest of the students erupted in whispering.

Ashton forced himself to keep looking straight ahead.

He could hear the blonde collecting his bag behind him and then suddenly he felt a hard shove as Luke intentionally hit him walking by. Ashton looked at him in surprise that quickly turned into anger at the blonde’s malicious actions.

Luke stopped at the desk, holding a quick conversation with Pembroke.

“Your advisor-counselor Rogers wants you in his office for your appointment.”

Ashton strained to hear what was going on despite the hushed whispering around him. What appointment?

Luke looked even more murderous than before, his eyes slanted angrily as he glared at the rest of the class, daring them to say something about his dismissal. But there was also something extremely defensive and somehow defeated in his posture.

His shoulders were slumped and although he trained evil eyes on the rest of the class, when he turned back to answer the professor, he just shook his head, eyes falling to the floor.

It was very strange to Ashton. What kind of appointment and why was it in the middle of class?

Once again, Luke seemed to know that Ashton was trying to listen in because he sent one last hard stare towards the back of the classroom before hiking his book bag across his shoulder and stalking out, scowl etched on his face.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

“What’s been bothering you?” Michael poked Ashton. They were seated at the bleachers, along with Harry and Zayn, even more students that Michael insisted on introducing him to, watching as the soccer team warmed up for their preseason scrimmage. Calum had waved from the sidelines at the two momentarily before jogging back to his team.  
Ashton hadn’t said much except a nod in agreement here and there. He was too busy trying to stare and not get caught at Luke.

Although his attitude clearly needed some improvement, the blonde definitely didn’t lack in looks. Especially in the stark white number 16 jersey.

Thin, lanky, and he seemed to have a nose for the goal and for the ball. He twisted and turned with the ball effortlessly and had possession of it more often than not. However, Ashton never saw the blonde really interact with his teammates. True to his ways, he remained distant from his team.

Fortunately, it didn’t seem like the blonde needed to. He was always in the right spot at the right time. Even Calum, as much as he complained alongside Michael, didn’t seem to mind him as much on the field.

Michael poked Ashton harder, finally getting his attention.

“What? Sorry…I was just…”

“You’ve been staring at Hemmings for the past 15 minutes.”

“I…uhh…” Ashton scrambled his brain to try and explain just why he was staring at Luke. And he didn’t think ‘Luke’s fit’ would be a good answer.

“Just… does Luke always have advisement appointments during class?” He blurted out.

That grabbed all three of the boys’ attention.

Michael snorted, leaning back against the metal seats. “Starting early this year.”

Harry shook his head in disagreement. “He has meetings with a counselor a couple of times a every week.”

“Counselor?”

“Cause he’s a fucking nutcase.”

“I don’t know. He used to only go every once in a while, but now he’s in there at least once a week,” Harry shrugged.

“Wait how do you know this?” Michael turned away from where the teams were lining up on in the center of the field.

“I help in the administration’s office, remember?”

Ashton’s mind wandered to this new set of information. Luke was seeing a counselor? Well it was no wonder. The boy didn’t seem to have any friends and he did seem like he left a trail of problems in his wake.

“That why you’re still staring at him?”

“Shove off,” Ashton playfully punched the redhead’s shoulder. “He got called out in the middle of class. It was weird alright.”

Michael grinned devilishly, pressing closer into the curly haired boy’s side. “I already warned you to stay away. You don’t want to mess with him.”

“I was just curious, Mikey! He’s my roommate. Now shut up. The game’s about to start.”  
Michael peeled away from his side, attention diverted for the time being.

Which meant Ashton was free to watch the blonde without drawing attention to himself.

The blonde was feisty and hard edged and that was exactly how he played. He was extremely quick and didn’t back down from a challenge, throwing his body into tackles and taking shots on the goal which left the other team reeling.

Because of that, he quickly became a target for fouls. But even getting mauled over for the second time in less than 30 minutes, didn’t deter him from playing brilliantly.

Although Ashton found his gaze more often than not following the blonde, the constant cheers and “Yes! Calum!” kept him just as in tune with the black-haired boy.

Calum also played amazing. Down on the defensive wing, he was calm and collected. Playing the ball smartly and void of amateur mistakes. It was clear why he and the team was held in such high esteem.

The boys ended up winning 2-0 courtesy of goals by Luke and Liam.

Michael and Ashton waited as Calum walked across the field, dark hair matted to his face but wearing a tired grin. Michael grabbed the Kiwi boy around the neck, congratulating him.

“So fucking good, man.”

“It’s going to be a good year,” Calum agreed, wrapping one arm around the redhead’s middle and throwing the other over Ashton’s shoulder. The trio headed back towards the dorms, laughing and exchanging thoughts about the game.

Once back to the dorms, Ashton left the other two cuddled on the couch playing Fifa (seriously, as if the boys didn’t get enough soccer earlier) to go take a shower. It had been a long day of a few downs but mostly ups and Ashton found himself actually excited for the school year.  
This was it. Long days of school, piles of homework, but soccer and hanging out at night with his best friends.

Best friends.

It felt right to say that. Calum and Michael had been more than welcoming to him, thrusting him right into their lives as if he had always belonged there. It could be home.

When Ashton finally stepped out of the shower, toweled dry, and changed, he was met with something he had yet to see since his first night.

Luke was curled up underneath his covers, his head resting on one arm, while the other was nestled against his chest.

Curious because the blonde was never home before Ashton had already fallen asleep, the curly haired boy peered over his sleeping form. His lips were slightly parted and there were dull marks under his eyes, indicating he wasn’t getting sleep.

He looked beautiful. And vulnerable. Nothing like the icy mask he usually wore.

Realizing he was staring and knowing Luke had a knack for catching him, Ashton stepped away and made his way to his own bed.

As soon as he laid down, sleep started to creep up on him. In under a minute, the full weight of the day hit him and he became lost to the world.

The rest of the week passed by in a blur: remembering where each class was, keeping up with the ever-growing pile of homework, and trying, unsuccessfully to corner Hemmings to talk about the English assignment they had yet to choose a topic on.

The blonde pointedly ignored him in class every time he even attempted to bring it up. Not to mention he was almost never in the room at a decent time for Ashton to corner him.

It was frustrating to say the least. All of the good topics were going to be gone by the time Luke got over himself.

Fortunately, the assignment wasn’t due for a couple of weeks and Ashton found himself loaded with assignments from other classes that would keep him occupied.

He only hoped that he would be able to get through to the boy before it was too late.

……………………………………………………………………………………………..

"No. Na-uh. No way."

"Come on Ash!" Michael groaned, hand rubbing his forehead.

"You're going."

"Why?"

"Because, every year the Hollis house holds this huge party the first weekend school is back." Calum crossed his arms, leaning against the breakfast bar.

"It's seriously the biggest party this place has," Michael added. He was sitting on the opposite side of the couch, two controllers abandoned on the coffee table. The duo had brought up the party twenty minutes ago when Michael mentioned going out that night while they were playing Fifa.

Ashton didn't even like Fifa but he didn't really have a choice once Michael shoved his notes out of his lap and replaced them with a controller instead.

"So?" Ashton shrugged his shoulders. He didn't understand what the big deal was.

"So...it's like our last hoorah before classes actually start getting serious."

Ashton blanched at that. How much more serious were classes going to get? He already had loads of homework and it was only the first week.

"And first years can't get in."

"Wait, I'm a first year..."

"Yeah but you're friends with us," Michael shot his thumb towards Calum's direction. "And technically you're a transfer and in the same year."

"I don't even like to drink," Ashton protested weakly. He knew he wasn't going to win this fight.

"I call bullshit on that!" Michael shouted.

"What-how do you know if I like to drink or not?" He said indignantly.

Michael shrugged, grabbing his game controller and returning to the game. "Everyone likes to drink. Hell, even stick-up-his-ass Hemmings drinks. Now let's play. I'm sick of this argument"

"You do realize this means you're going, right?" Calum's lips pulled into a sly smile. Ashton glared at him half-heartedly.

"You guys are the worst."

"It'll be fun. Besides, it's not like you won't know anyone there. Louis'll be there, Liam, everyone." He said.

"And we won't just ditch you..."

Ashton scowled.

He should have known that was exactly what was going to happen. As soon as they entered the Hollis house, Calum and Michael ran straight to the kitchen for drinks, dragging the unwilling teen behind them. The two huddled close together, mixing who knows what and purposely blocking Ashton's view and ignoring his huffs.

He glanced around the kitchen, looking out the doorway. The house was packed and smelled strongly of beer and smoke. There was music blaring in the other room, so loud it was hard to discern anything remotely further than a few feet away.

They had already spotted Niall, dazed grin on his face, cheeks flushed, and being piggybacked around by Liam while singing along to the Katy Perry song blasting from the speakers. The blonde waved excitedly at them before returning to his song and urging Liam further.

"Here!" Calum thrusted a full, red plastic cup into the curly haired boy's hands.

"What is it?" Ashton brought it to his nose, grimacing.

"Don't worry about it. Just drink and let go," Michael stated, taking a chug out of his cup. Ashton rolled his eyes but obeyed, taking a much smaller sip. He almost choked as the strong liquid burned down his throat.

"Jesus," He coughed. "What the hell guys."

Calum just slung his arm around his shoulders. "Come onnn Ash," he whined, following Michael's example and chugging his beer.

"Just so you know, I'm not carrying either of you home." They ignored him, pulling him into the middle of the dance floor.

The floor felt like it was vibrating and Ashton couldn't hear a single thing that Calum or Michael shouted at him. There were so many people packed into the same room, dancing and bumping into each other. Ashton knew he had spilled part of the drink which he was silently thankful for.

Calum and Michael had started out dancing alongside him but quickly became much more invested in each other. The brunette was facing the redhead, grinning as Michael flushed their bodies together, hands reaching behind and grabbing hold of the boy's backside. Ashton turned away and if his cheeks were suddenly flushed more than usual and the heat got heavier in the room it was because of the alcohol, no doubt.

He turned his attention to a pretty brunette girl and instead started dancing with her, hoping that he could distract himself from his roommates practically dry humping in front of him. He lost track of time and Michael and Calum by the time he managed to slip out of the mass of people. He was sweating, curls sticking against the back of his neck and v-neck clinging to his body.

Surprisingly, he found himself finishing his drink, ignoring the burn it left in its wake before leaving the cup sitting on the counter. It was strong enough he wasn't going to need anything else anytime soon. Nor did he really want to. Who else was going to peel his roommates off of the floor tonight?

With no signs of Michael or Cal and suddenly no one to talk to, Ashton decided to head upstairs to at least go to the bathroom and wash off some of the sweat dripping from his face. As he turned down the hallway, he froze in place.

There were two bodies pressed against the wall in the corner, one hiked up, legs wrapped around the person standing. Hands were everywhere, in the standing boy's dark hair. The dark haired boy had a hand under his counterpart's thighs, fingers kneading at the flesh underneath black jeans.

The other hand went around to wear a gray beanie hid the other's hair and he pulled it off. A shock of messy blonde hair appeared and Ashton felt his stomach in his throat.

It was Luke.

Unaware of their sudden audience, Luke turned his mouth into the taller boy's eyes closed tightly. The brunette hiked him up higher on his waist before slamming him back against the wall. A muffled sound came from the blonde as he tore his lips away and looked past him, eyes widening for a split second before they narrowed as they met Ashton's.

"What the fuck are you looking at?"

That snapped the attention of the boy who had him against the corner. The brunette turned and looked Ashton up and down before returning to the blonde, lips going to his neck.

 "Fucking stop Hunter," Luke snapped at him. He forced Hunter's hands off him and pulled the brunette past Ashton who was still frozen on the spot.

He shouldered into him violently, shaking him from his stupor. "This isn't a fucking peep show, you know."

Ashton shook his head suddenly, trying both to comprehend what he had just seen and what he was being accused of. "N-no. I didn't mean-I wasn't staring-sorry!" He stuttered.

Luke just rolled his eyes at him and pulled the tall brunette behind him into an empty room. "Let's go." He slammed the door.

Ashton stood rooted in his spot still in a daze. Well. Looks like Michael and Calum weren't lying when they said the blonde got around. But that was just one guy. That didn't mean the blonde was a slut. It was like calling his own two friends that when they were on the dance floor.

No. Ashton still refused to believe the rumors.

Remembering why he came upstairs in the first place, Ashton finally found the bathroom a few feet down the hall. He splashed cold water on his face and took a moment to just breathe. He was getting way too worked up over this.

As he walked out, he ran straight into two giggling masses.

"Ashy!" Michael's eyes were bright and he pulled him into a hug. "We couldn't find you anywhere!"

Ashton patted his back. "You guys ditched me."

"Sorry," the redhead fake pouted. "It was his fault!" He jabbed a finger into Calum's chest.

"No it wasn't! You were the one who wanted to-"

"Shh!" Michael clapped a hand over the Kiwi boy's mouth.

Ashton looked questioningly at the two, taking in their disheveled appearances, hair slightly sticking up, clothes wrinkled...Speaking of clothes, Michael was definitely not wearing that shirt when they left the apartment...and Cal's shirt..

"Ugh you guys did not!"

Calum at least had the decency to look away embarrassed, hand flattening the top of his where his hair was standing haphazardly. Michael just grinned triumphantly.

"I can't believe you ditched me to have sex!"

"Sorry, it just sort of happened?"

"I'm not sorry."

It was Cal's turn to cover Michael's mouth. "Let's go back downstairs," he suggested, pushing Michael from behind, trying to ignore the redhead's attempts to corner him into a wall and start kissing him again.

"God what did I get myself into?" Ashton groaned in his hands. He started following the two who were halfway down the stairs when he heard it.

"Ow!”

Ashton knew that voice anywhere. He leaned against the wall next to the same door that the blonde and his hookup had gone in. He heard the unmistakable sound of lips smacking against lips and small groans. Ashton gulped, ready to walk away again.

He already walked in on them once. He wasn't about to do it again. He just thought...

"Ow, fuck, I said stop!"

"Come on baby, don't act like you don't want it."

This wasn't starting to sound good.

"Will you get off me!"

Ashton heard enough. There was no way what has happening was something good. Luke sounded mad and it definitely didn't sound like he was agreeing to whatever was going on earlier. The blonde may have been a pain in the ass but it wasn't right to force someone to do anything with you. Ashton knew that much.

He heard what sounded like someone hitting the wall and he braced himself, flinging the door open.

Hunter was towering over the blonde, who was again backed against a wall, hands grabbing drunkenly underneath the boy’s waistband. Luke's hands appeared at his shoulders, but Ashton couldn't tell if he was shoving him off or pulling him close.

Until Hunter pulled away, hand grabbing a handful of the blonde's hair and wrenching his head back. The blonde's eyes shot open and he started to protest.

"Seriously, I said stop!"

"Quit acting. Everyone knows you spread your legs for anyone, you little slut." He said in a husky voice, ignoring him and grabbing his chin, forcing him into a kiss, silencing him. The blonde seemed to relax.

Ashton was very confused this time. Wasn't Luke just telling him to stop? He prepared himself to walk out quickly and quietly since he hadn't been seen yet when-

"OW! What the fuck!" Hunter ripped himself away from Luke who was heaving for breath. "You stupid cunt!"

A fist came out of nowhere, slamming into Luke's jaw unexpectedly causing the boy to crumple to the floor.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Luke shouted, sitting up against the wall, pain blossoming across his right cheek. "What the fuck is your problem?"

"Seriously? You want to act like you weren't begging for it? Stupid bitch!" Hunter spat blood in his direction, wincing.

"If I wanted to fuck someone it sure as hell wouldn't have been you!" Luke wiped his sleeve against his mouth. He fingered his bottom lip which was starting to drip with blood.

"Oh that's right, you only fuck the teachers. Got it. Good to know," Hunter sneered, starting to storm out of the room. Ashton watched as the blonde's face fell, hurt crossing his features before his mask slid into place.

"Watch it," he hissed, knocking Ashton against the doorway.

It was then that Luke caught Ashton’s gaze. The blonde’s eyes hardened like steel.

Ashton didn’t know what made him do it. All he had ever gotten from the boy was animosity. But he couldn’t help himself. Maybe it was because he had taken care of his siblings for so long. Or maybe it was this sudden urge that spread all the way to his fingertips to protect the boy.

He reached out, attempting to help him stand. “Are you okay?”

“Fucking fantastic!” Luke spat, jerking Ashton’s hand away as he stood on his own. His jaw was already starting to bruise. He stared at the curly haired boy’s hand that was still outstretched.

“What do you want?”

“I’m just trying to make sure you’re okay,” Ashton huffed, crossing his arms.

“What so you can laugh at me? Spread more rumors? Tell people that I like it rough-I beg to get hit. I’m sure the school would eat that up.”

“What-no. Why the hell would I do that?” Ashton stared at him incredulously.

“Because you’re all the same!” Luke shouted, voice hitching slightly.

“You don’t even know me, you asshole. I would never do something like that!” He protested, voice raising. What Luke was accusing him of was absolutely insane. He didn’t know him. How dare he make such accusations?

And yet…

What could have possibly happened to make him so defensive, so hostile?

“Forget it,” Luke growled, reaching into his back pocket and retrieving his cigarette pack followed by his lighter. He pushed by Ashton and started walking out the doorway, hands shaking.

“Luke, wait,” Ashton sighed, his voice turning soft.

Something in his voice must have gotten through to Luke because he tensed and paused at the doorway, eyes looking warily and full of distrust at Ashton.

“Just…you know that’s not okay right?”

The blonde turned ever so slightly, facing him more fully.

“What he said…hitting you…that-that’s not okay.”

Ashton watched as an indiscernible emotion flitted across his face. Luke frowned. But this time, it wasn’t matched with his usual death glare. Instead, he seemed at a loss.

His eyes suddenly seemed so dull, so lifeless. Without any other acknowledgement, the blonde left the room.

Ashton sighed, suddenly exhausted by what he had witnessed. He rubbed his temple and let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

His mind was reeling over what had just happened. What had just been said.

More than ever, Ashton wanted to know what in the world happened to Luke Hemmings.

He followed Luke’s path back out into the hallway but there was no sign of the lanky blonde. He felt his heart sink a little. Well, there was nothing he could do now but try and find his roommates again.

It was well past two in the morning before Ashton finally rounded up Calum and Michael, who looked even more disheveled and extremely pleased with themselves. He didn’t even have to ask.

The trio stumbled back to their rooms, thankfully without getting caught. Ashton had no idea how he would have been able to explain Michael and Calum sloppily kissing each other and tripping over their own feet the entire walk back.

The two disappeared quickly into their rooms and Ashton collapsed into his own empty bed, eyes drooping heavily. He left the lamp on in case Luke decided to show up at all. He turned on his side, thoughts racing through his tired brain.

If this night was going to be an indication on how all of the parties here were going to be, it was going to be quite eventful.

Sleep quickly started evading his mind when he heard someone stumbling ungracefully into the room.

“I swear to God if you guys don’t go to bed already.” He growled, sitting up to reprimand his roommates. Seriously? Were they planning on having sex in his bedroom too? They were insatiable.

A crash jolted him out of his sleepy daze.

“Fuck.”

“Luke?”

The blonde looked a little worse for wear. His hair was tousled and his clothes were still disheveled. He leaned heavily against his desk on his side of the room, eyes completely glazed over. His book bag was laying on the floor, contents spilled.

He looked like he could barely hold himself up.

“W-why’re you here,” the blonde slurred heavily, pointing his finger accusingly at Ashton.

“How much have you had to drink?”

The blonde threw his head back at that, laughing. But it wasn’t a haha, that was funny. It sounded angry and almost deranged.

“N-not enough-“ He hiccupped. He tried to take a step forward and collapsed on the floor. Ashton jumped up, sleep forgotten, immediately trying to help him back up.

“Luke, c’mon, stand up,” he urged. The blonde mumbled something incoherent as he looked around in a daze.

“Why’m I on th-floor?”

He grabbed onto his arm, grateful that the blonde was too inebriated to fight back. His skin felt clammy to the touch and as Ashton got a good look at his face. He was paler than normal.

His eyes were bloodshot and fully dilated. And the intense smell of alcohol suddenly hit him.

Ashton pulled him to his feet only to have him lean so much on the curly haired boy that he might as well have been carrying him.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he started to drag the unresponsive boy towards his pristinely made bed.

“N-no!” Luke protested loudly, attempting to swat at the hands holding him up. “Don’ wanna sleep…you.”

“Good news, I don’t want to sleep with you either,” Ashton stated, starting to get annoyed. Why did every encounter with Luke wind up with him feeling insulted?

“Jus…wanna” the blonde tried to wrench Ashton’s hands off him.

“Yeah, I get it. You want to sleep. I’m taking you to your bed.” Ashton tried to explain, hissing as Luke’s nails drug across his arms.

“No! Need-to-“

“Need to what?” He shouted in exasperation, about ready to just let go of the blonde and let him sleep on the floor.

“Donfeelgoo-“

“Well considering you look like you’ve drank enough for all of us-“

“Ashton…” It came out so quiet and timid but it was the first time Luke had ever used his first name. Ashton paused at his rant. Luke’s face looked even paler than before it that was possible. And his cheeks suddenly looked slightly green…

“Think I’m gon’ be s–sick”

“Shit.”

Eyes widening, Ashton grabbed Luke away from his bed and hoisted him as quickly as he could into the bathroom. He was glad for his quick reaction because a second later, the blonde was retching violently into the toilet.

Tears tracked down the blonde’s cheeks as he heaved again and again.

Ashton gulped. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t even know how Luke could possibly have so much to throw up. He opted to sit behind the blonde, trying his best to ignore the sounds of Luke puking.

He placed his hand on his back, rubbing it comfortingly, noting how he could feel the blonde’s vertebrae through his shirt.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there until Luke finally stopped heaving into the toilet and his breathing returned to a semi- normal state.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked gently, moving to kneel by his side. Luke’s head was rested against the cold porcelain seat. His hair was matted to his forehead with sweat and he still looked pale but a lot less than before.

The tears had stopped, leaving dried streaks down his cheeks and his eyes were red. He just stared listlessly at Ashton.

“I’m going to get you some water, okay?” Not waiting for a response, Ashton left the bathroom and hurried to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

He returned and knelt down again by the motionless blonde’s side. His eyes were closed and the frown was etched back on his face again.

“Luke, here, you need to drink some water.”

For a moment, Ashton thought he fell asleep, but his eyes opened slowly, still in a daze. “Here, sit up.” Ashton carded his hand through the sweaty locks and leaning the blonde against the wall.

Luke took the water and clumsily sipped from it, eyes watching Ashton suspiciously. There was a tense silence for a few moments while he finished the glass of water before thrusting it back at Ashton.

Luke tilted his head against the wall. “Why…why are you being so nice to me?” His voice was raspy and still slurred, though not nearly as much as before.

Ashton shrugged his shoulders and opened his mouth to answer but Luke beat him to it.

“You hate me.”

Ashton looked like he was slapped. “I don’t hate you.”

Luke closed his eyes, lips curling into a sneer. “Everybody hates me,” he laughed hollowly. He opened his eyes again and Ashton was shocked to see how bright with tears his eyes were.

“I don’t hate you,” Ashton said earnestly.

“Everybody hates me,” Luke repeated. “I hate me…” he whispered brokenly, voice catching.

Ashton was frozen on the spot. This was not what he was expecting. Luke sounded absolutely destroyed. Gone was the ice prince, the mask that wreaked havoc across Westminster.

“S’all I am to people. Just a quick fuck-“ he said bitterly. “Jus- get them off…all ‘m good for.”

Ashton felt his heart break at those words. How could one person feel so low and worthless about themselves?

He placed a hand on Luke’s bruised cheek, thumb grazing over it gently. “That’s not true,” he said determinedly. “Everything you just said. None of it is true.”

A stray tear slipped down, catching on Ashton’s thumb. Luke’s eyes fluttered shut as the curly haired boy continued to stroke his cheek. He only opened them when Ashton started speaking again.

“Come on, let’s get you up, yeah?”

Luke took a second to comprehend before he nodded slowly. He let Ashton pick him up and half-carry him to brush his teeth and lead him to his bed.

He was nearly unresponsive the entire time which was starting to scare Ashton. This was not the Luke that he had gotten to know in two weeks. So broken and self-depreciating.

He deposited him on his bed and pulled his covers over him, propping him on his side. He pulled the trash bin from the bathroom and placed it next to the side of the bed.

Luke had curled into a ball, arm hiding half of his face. His skin had lost the green tint to it but he still felt clammy. Ashton smoothed the blonde hair over.

“I don’t hate you, Luke.” He promised quietly. Certain that the boy was asleep for the time being and hopefully no longer a danger to himself at the moment, Ashton returned to his own bed, utterly exhausted.

He glanced at the time on his phone and groaned inwardly.

4:23 AM.

He turned on his side so that he could keep an eye on the blonde figure, although it wouldn’t do much good because he felt like he was going to pass out any moment.

That had been scary. Who knew how much Luke actually had to drink. Ashton would be very surprised if he didn’t wake up to the sounds of retching again.

But why had Luke drank that much? Did he do that all the time? Or did it have something to do with what he had witnessed?

And not only that, but, Ashton suddenly remembered, Luke had once again been accused of being a slag. And worse, though the blonde was drunk beyond reason, he had started crying about it.

There was something seriously wrong here and Ashton was determined to figure it out.

Even more, he was determined to show Luke that he didn’t hate him.

 When Ashton woke a little after 11 in the morning, there was no sign that Luke had even been in the room last night. The bed was precisely made again and even the water cup that they had left in the bathroom was gone.

For a moment, Ashton considered maybe he just dreamt the whole thing up.

He got out of bed and started towards the kitchen, deciding he was going to make breakfast, because one, taking care of drunk people was exhausting and he was starving, and two, because he knew Michael and Calum were going to be nightmares to wake up and he figured breakfast would be a good motivation.

As he pulled out a carton of eggs, he noticed a small stack of papers sitting on the corner of the breakfast bar.

Curious, he grabbed the stack and felt a small smile creep its way to his face.

It was a stack of a bibliography and poems written by William Blake, one of the options for the English project he had been waiting patiently for Luke to decide on, all stapled together.

On the top of the first page was a hand scribbled note:  
We can start tomorrow after the game.

Ashton grinned in contentment. It was a step in the right direction.

He knew that it might not lead to anything. So far Ashton had only gotten through Luke’s walls after a night of drinking. That wasn’t necessarily a win.

But the fact that the blonde had finally chosen a topic, after the constant struggle to even get him to agree to work with him…

Luke didn’t have to say anything. He knew this was his way of saying thank you.

And that was more than enough for Ashton.


End file.
